


Mr. Fox

by ShakespeareFreak



Category: Original Work, Titus Andronicus - Shakespeare
Genre: Animal Death, Blood and Gore, Death, Demons, Fire, Freeform, Gore, Heart Attacks, Hell, Horror, Inspired by The White Road by Neil Gaiman, Inspired by Titus Andronicus, Murder, Poetry, Rape, Self-Harm, Theft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-27 16:39:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18742924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShakespeareFreak/pseuds/ShakespeareFreak
Summary: "If there be devils, would I were a devil,To live and burn in everlasting fire,So I might have your company in hellBut to torment you with my bitter tongue!"(Aaron,Titus Andronicus, Act V, Scene i)





	Mr. Fox

What makes you laugh in the night, Mr. Fox  
Your sharp white teeth flashing suddenly in your dark face  
The whites of your black eyes glittering insanely  
The sudden bark of laughter disturbing the still darkness of the house you broke into  
Disturbing the elderly couple who sleep peacefully in each other's arms  
As but a few feet away you shove their silver into your thief's canvas bag?

 Why are you laughing?

 Did, perhaps, 100 miles away  
A barn spontaneously burst into flame  
From a careless Marlboro dropped into the straw hours ago  
Smoldering away beneath the hay  
Mounting through the wood frame like a deadly disease,  
The shrill blind screams of horses ringing through the crisp night air,  
The sweet smell of burnt sandalwood curling up into the dark sky?

Did a good kind old man, alone in his house  
Suddenly grimace, clutch at his chest and fall,  
Stone dead? 

Has a rational person,  
For no explainable reason,  
Awakened from a sound sleep  
Calmly raised hands to their face  
And begun to claw out their eyes  
In bloody, oozing gashes? 

Has a high school girl, intercepted on her way home from Drama Club  
Has her pink-and-blue parka been ripped open  
By the man who lurked in the woods beside the school crossing;  
Or has he already dumped her naked, ravished body in the parking lot trashbin? 

Or did, in some dimension we know nothing of, where sins are paid  
A new soul enter Hell  
Raising its voice in a high keening shriek of pain, grief, loss, inhuman longing, and regret  
Screaming and screaming and screaming  
Just beyond the audible spectrum?

 When I hear you laugh in the night, Mr. Fox  
With your brown velvet skin so soft  
I cannot help but wonder which it was.  
And, as I lay awake in the blackness,  
Afterward,  
Fruitlessly seeking the Kingdom of Dreams  
As I listen to noises that could be a murderer,  
Or an owl,  
I hide my head beneath the pillow  
And press the fabric against my ears,  
Trying to block out the screams  
Echoing in my brain.

**Author's Note:**

> _Written approx. 2000 - 2004 (?)_
> 
> The story behind this poem is as interesting as the poem itself, at least in my opinion, so I'm going to share it:
> 
> Back in 2009 or so, I was going through a box of old stuff I found in my father's basement. I found happy memories, sad ones, and bittersweet ones. I also found an old math notebook of mine... judging by the contents, it's from somewhere between 7th and 9th grade. 
> 
> In the back I found a deeply disturbing section. This poem was sandwiched between sketches of a girl who looks like Samara from _The Ring_ , with her long black hair obscuring her face, and words like _Love_ and _Happiness_ crossed out repeatedly in angry black scratches. 
> 
> I don't remember writing this AT ALL, any more than I recall drawing those scary images, but it's all in my handwriting, and I Googled the first line with no results... it seems to be mine. Besides, though I don't remember writing it, I know what inspired it: my favourite poem, "The White Road" by Neil Gaiman, a long, darkly gorgeous free-form poem, very gory, whose narrator is referred to only as "Mr. Fox;" and Aaron, the villain from William Shakespeare's _Titus Andronicus._ I think this is about Aaron, as told in the style of "The White Road."
> 
> I love the poem, but that section buried deep in the back of my math notebook continues to bother me... and the fact that I have no recollection of creating it, that I seem to have simply blocked it out, is somehow terrifying.
> 
> It's occurred to me that I may have simply been trying to scare the person sitting next to me, hoping out of sheer boredom to freak them out (at least with the scary drawings; the poem feels genuine)... in which case, I had no idea how lucky I was that my plan failed. I could have been taken to the school counselor, or even expelled.
> 
> But part of me worries, as I think it always will, that my mind is like that notebook... that somewhere, hidden in the back, there is something dark and haunting and insane... something just waiting for some unwitting person to find it, innocently blow the dust off... and set it loose.
> 
> All I can say for sure is, math always brings out the worst in me.


End file.
